


i hope that i have a place in your heart, too

by thesmallbee



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Eventual Friends-to-Lovers, Kairi being rightfully angry, Miscommunication, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, implied eventual polyamory, kairi is very bad at dealing with trauma sorry, let girls feel negative emotions, nomura drop your location i just want to talk, not re:mind compliant, post-kh3, this fic doesn't actually give them their happy ending but i promise it happens guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesmallbee/pseuds/thesmallbee
Summary: There was Sora-shaped hole in their hearts, and neither of them knew how to deal with it.





	i hope that i have a place in your heart, too

**Author's Note:**

> messy rikai? in my fic? it’s more likely than you think!
> 
> i have been working on this since like two weeks after kh3 came out, please be kind, i’m babey. 
> 
> i did not know canonverse (so)rikai mutual pining h/c angst was even possible, this spun so wildly out of control and wow i am so sorry. how they are both so stupid in love with each other (and with sora) and still so dense is mind-boggling. you all have two hands! 
> 
> hey, nomura? kairi is a good character, you just don’t know what to do with her. let me demonstrate. 
> 
> title comes from utada hikaru’s ‘first love,’ because i read a [translation](https://mikachamin.wordpress.com/2010/07/13/utada-hikaru-first-love-lyric-translation/) of the lyrics after finishing the draft for this and i fucking cried. [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5MHO8fGEAdMV3RijZaf91E) is also a link to the playlist i made for this absolute trainwreck.
> 
> dedicated to a little bird, here’s hoping it’s as much of a punch in the gut as i’ve designed it to be.

The first thing Kairi heard were the waves.

Everything was blurry around the edges, like she had just come up for air after spending too long underwater.

_Sora?_

Right away, her mind started to drift, unable to focus, but a comforting squeeze of her hand grounded her a little more.

She was… home? Where had she been?

Her memories were flashing spaces between lightning strikes in a tumbling storm, brief snapshots that disoriented her and slipped away before she could grasp them.

_Sora?_

Oh, right. She had died.

A feeling she would probably have known to call panic if she had been more grounded flooded her like ice as she gripped enough scraps to piece together what happened.

But she knew this place. This was her home, her island. She wasn’t dead. This couldn’t be _after_; something must have brought her back. Someone.

_Sora!_

Her breath caught on a sob, and her still-cloudy vision blurred further with tears. Why was she crying?

The weight of his hand on hers grew lighter. Kairi had the feeling that she needed to be paying attention, that this was important, but trying to focus on anything just made her head spin.

With difficulty, she finally managed to concentrate on ever-familiar blue eyes and a soft, calm smile, but all too soon they were gone, fading away in a simmering glow that made her own eyes ache as a few tears spilled over. Her hand was still warm, but now it was alone and empty. She couldn’t pull her gaze away, stuck staring at the spot he vanished from even though she distantly heard others approaching. 

“Kairi? Kairi, what happened?” someone asked her, the sound distorted like she was trapped beneath the tide. 

She stared blankly, unable to speak, still thawing out after having been frozen. 

“I– I don’t know. I can’t remember.” her voice was whisper-quiet, unrecognizable to herself. If she hadn’t felt her mouth move, she wouldn’t have been sure she spoke at all. She didn’t feel like she was all put together yet, a jigsaw puzzle assembled wrong — all the pieces were there but not in their proper places. 

“Where’s Sora?” a little clearer this time, but she still couldn’t put a name to who said it. 

Instead of having a chance to reply, another sob escaped her without permission. She still didn’t remember what made her start crying, as if her heart was dealing with the trauma but her mind hadn’t yet caught up to _why_. The last of his warmth slowly evaporated from the back of her hand until it was left numb, so she dug her nails into her palm until she could feel _something._

There was more talking, but it just buzzed in her ears like mosquitos, white noise she couldn’t make heads or tails of. 

“We need to go to the tower,” she caught, a woman’s voice she knew she should recognize. 

She finally managed to wrench herself away from where she sat and tried to stand, but spots spread across her vision at the effort and the sudden vertigo tipped her sense of balance completely over, making her stumble. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” someone reassured her before strong arms gathered her up and started to carry her away from the tree. She buried her face in a jacket that smelled like home and took her time coming back to consciousness. 

And it did take a while, her awareness ebbing in and out like the tide against the shore as things continued to happen around her, but she eventually figured that she was in Riku’s arms, that they were on the Gummi Ship, and that most of the others were there, too. She wasn’t ready to deal with all that, yet, so she willed herself to drift off again.

Whatever happened ten minutes ago was a mystery to her, but she pulled up memories from ten years ago clear as day; two boys comforting her after she first washed up on the beach, trailing behind them and clinging to their sleeves as they showed her around the island. She tightened her grip on the fabric clenched in her hands and focused on a soothing hand rubbing her shoulder. 

By the time the Gummi Ship touched town on the lush lawn outside the tower, Kairi was a little more aware of her surroundings, but her head was pounding with the worst headache of her life. Trying to remember just made it hurt more, so she had put those efforts on the back burner. She was steady enough on her feet to walk, but she could feel Riku a close step behind her just in case.

“So, I guess we’ll just catch the train back, then?” a boy said from further back. She turned around to see Hayner, Pence, and Olette still standing by the ship, awkward body language making it clear that they didn’t feel comfortable following them into the tower. Olette gave Kairi a shy wave that she numbly returned. She hadn’t even noticed they were there.

“We’ll meet the rest of you upstairs once we get these three home,” Goofy said, giving Donald a shove and heading back towards the ship.

Kairi remembered the staircase the lead to the top of the tower being intimidatingly tall, but the trip up seemed shorter than she expected. She chalked it up to her still-foggy state.

She followed the others through the door at the top to see Yen Sid standing up from his chair in shock when she came into view. 

“I suppose one of you could explain?” he said in a rumbling voice.

“Well, all of us were together on the island, and then we saw Sora and Kairi there on the tree. By the time we got over, though… it was just Kairi there,” Mickey explained, gesturing with his arms for emphasis.

“Do you know what happened, Kairi?” he turned his full attention on her. The scrutiny made her skin itch.

She tried, again, to think of where she had been. The swirling lights and colours of wherever it was were unfamiliar. Yen Sid cleared his throat, expecting some kind of answer from her.

“I… I don’t remember any of it. Sora was holding my hand, and then,” she swallowed around a sob, “a-and then he wasn’t.”

A few voices started speaking at once, overlapping to the point of incoherency. Overwhelmed, she looked down at the floor, squeezing her arms around herself. One voice came out clearer than the others, saying something she wished she hadn’t heard.

“... Is he gone, then?” Axel asked the room, voice quiet and sullen, at least not daring to actually direct the question at Kairi.

She answered anyway; response ripped out of her like a sob. “No,” she clutched her chest, nails digging in over her heart, “No. I’d feel it if he were, I’m sure of it.”

“She’s right, those of us with a connection to Sora would be able to feel it,” she heard Ven say, though she thought the voice came from somewhere behind her when she could clearly see Ven standing in front of her. How disorienting.

“What’s more concerning to me is why Kairi can’t remember any of it,” Aqua said, stepping towards the desk, arms crossed like she was deep in thought.

“Do you think there’s a reason? Like what?” Mickey paced back and forth near the centre of the room as he asked. Riku stayed quiet beside her, though she could feel how tense the topic was making him. 

“Well, we don’t actually know why Kairi can’t remember, but it could be a few different reasons. Something, or someone, could be blocking the memories on purpose, or if it was… traumatic, they might be suppressed,”

Kairi knew that voice. That wasn’t just one of the echoes she sometimes heard; that was said out loud, somewhere behind her.

“Wait, Naminé?” she pressed a hand over her chest, finally realizing that she felt strangely _empty_ alongside the disjointedness she had been struggling with.

“Naminé!” she spun, looking for the other girl. How had she been so unaware of her surroundings? She rushed over and threw her arms around her slim, pale shoulders.

“You’re here! Out here, I mean. I wanted to figure out how – I wanted you to have a chance to live your life,” she tumbled over the words, shy in her uncoordination, squeezing the other girl. Finally, some good news in all this chaos.

“I know, I know all of it. Thank you,” Naminé’s voice had always had a wispy quality to it before, like she could waver out of existence right before your eyes. She didn’t sound like that anymore.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” she finished, unable to express exactly how she felt about having her there, in the flesh.

Naminé smiled and leaned her forehead against Kairi’s, “I don’t care about that. I’m just happy to see you here now.”

Yen Sid cleared his throat again, interrupting them. “We have no reason to believe Kairi’s memory has been tampered with by dark forces. We will remain vigilant, but perhaps it is best to give this some time.”

He studied her carefully for a moment, waiting for some sort of sign she couldn’t understand, dark eyes boring into her. She was already starting to get sick of being stared at.

“I am glad you are back, Kairi. You should go get some rest.” he said, and it seemed to be enough to bring the entire conversation to a close. Everyone started shuffling around the room, making their way back out and down to the hallway lined with spare bedrooms. Kairi already had her own, as did a few of the others, and she suspected that in her absence some more had been filled.

She slipped into her room and closed the door behind her before anyone had a chance to say anything else to her. She didn’t want to talk right now, not about anything they would likely have to say. In the morning, maybe she could tackle it. For now, she planned to do what she always did when something overwhelmed her: pretend that nothing was wrong.

That proved to be easier said than done. Under the covers, she curled up in a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched. Sleep eluded her, mind racing too fast for any chance of rest. She wanted to think of _anything_ but Sora, shame scratching deep at her when she found herself missing the year that she spent not remembering who he was.

What had he _done?_

Whatever the price, she told herself it wasn’t worth it.

She would switch back with him, if she were confident that he wouldn’t just turn around and do it again.

The tower was silent as death around her as she lay awake for hours; the only sounds present were those of her tossing and turning in the sheets.

Despite getting absolutely no sleep, though, she did manage to feel more lucid the next morning. The only fogginess she felt she attributed to how groggy she was. She spent most of the day wandering the tower, reacclimating herself to her surroundings, making small talk with anyone she passed by, though it often came out stilted and awkward. At the very least, she was getting filled in on what she had missed while she was… absent. It was much later in the afternoon when she passed by a room and overheard voices engaged in an argument. 

She didn’t intend to listen in, really.

“–We also need to deal with the possibility that that’s _not_ Kairi,” she heard Terra say, with hesitation, like he regretted even having to suggest it.

“That’s Kairi. I’m sure of it.” Riku usually spoke with a sense of conviction that she had always been proud of him for, but she had still never heard him more certain than that. 

She wished she were that certain, herself. She couldn’t blame the others for expecting the worst.

“And I’m speaking from experience – we should just take some precautions,” Terra’s reply sounded miserable. She had spoken to Aqua that morning, and had her clarify some things. She knew what Terra was talking about. That couldn’t be her situation, though, she told herself. There was only a small gap in her memory, and like Naminé said, she had been traumatized. Nothing was possessing her.

_Right?_

She stumbled into the next empty room she could find, skin clammy against the door and heart loud in her ears.

The panic climbing up her throat tasted like acid and fear. She needed to sit down before she passed out, breath coming in silent, shallow gasps. It was irrational, and she didn’t even really think it herself, but it had her spiralling. She sunk down into a plush cushion, trying to focus on the heavy velvet under her fingers instead of everything else, but her hands felt numb.

She could hear footsteps, but was locked in place.

“Naminé, can you go find Riku?” she heard someone say from the door over the humming around her.

She had gotten so used to much larger hands holding and pushing and grabbing at her, so when hands the same size – the _exact_ same size – as her own folded around hers it jolted her out of the fog she’d been slipping into.

“Kairi, I know you don’t know me, but I know you, sort of. I’m Xion.”

Kairi stared slack-jawed at a reflection of herself. Different hair, granted, short and dark and tucked behind her ear, and different eyes – _Sora’s_ eyes. She realized, belatedly, that this was the girl she fought at the Keyblade Graveyard.

“What—” she started to speak, but the words died in her throat. How was she supposed to ask this? Thankfully, Xion picked up on her question and shook her head to stop her before she did.

“I was made to be a replica of Roxas, but things didn’t quite go as planned and I got filled with all of Sora’s memories of you. That’s why I look the way I do.” That seemed… _impossible_, but she had seen more impossible things be true over the last few years.

“It’s okay. Just try to listen to me if you can,” she said, voice even and reassuring, and Kairi found that she wasn’t sinking anymore like she had been.

“When Sora left, I told him that you were okay, and I meant it. I’m telling you the same thing now. He’s okay, and we’re going to get him back,” she squeezed Kairi’s hands in hers and then pressed them against her own chest, her heartbeat steady and reliable in opposition to the frantic marathon that Kairi’s was running, “I know you’re scared. You can take your time. Nobody here is going to make you do anything or talk about anything you don’t want to.”

She continued to talk, the comforting words enough to make her stop hyperventilating. The dizziness ebbed once she finally managed to get some oxygen to stay in her lungs.

“You’re you, we know that you’re you. Not knowing that yourself is… scary. I’ve been there, you aren’t alone with that.”

“Oh, you’re good at this,” Kairi breathed, the hot-cold gripping-panic easing its hold on her while she focused on Xion’s voice.

“Yeah, well, I suppose I learned from the best,” Xion’s answering smile was kind and honest and… actually looked less like Kairi’s own than she expected. There was another layer of comfort in that alone.

“Aha, speaking of–” she let go of Kairi’s hands after one last reassuring squeeze just as Naminé came back into the room with Riku right behind her. “Your comforting skills are needed, Mr. Keyblade Master.”

“Kairi, are you okay?” Riku crouched down so he was at eye-level with her, his hand a grounding weight on her shoulder. She nodded out of habit first, but paused and shook her head a moment later. She could afford him the same honesty he had been giving her lately.

“Are you busy?” she asked, “Can you sit with me?”

“Hey, come on. Never too busy for you,” the way he said it was casual enough, which she was grateful for, but she could tell how much of it was him taking care to make sure it felt easygoing rather than the sober reality of the situation. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he settled down beside her, the large armchair she had collapsed in just big enough for two teenagers comfortable in each other’s personal space. 

“Can you just talk? About anything?” she asked him, wanting the kind of distraction that would remind her of better things rather than just numbing her. And he did, picking up on exactly what she needed and telling her old stories, new things he’d learned about, filling her in on the less-familiar faces in their group, never expecting a reply because he knew she didn’t have the energy to give one. She let it settle over her, listening to his voice but not catching all of the words.

“Please don’t leave me behind again,” she heard herself whisper, quiet and broken during a brief lull in his stories, the plea leaving her before she had a chance to police it. She knew better than to ask that, of course, but she also didn’t know if she could handle that kind of loneliness again.

Riku stretched an arm around her, moving them both into a more comfortable position. “Of course, Kairi,” he replied, low and soothing and oh, she had _missed_ him, “I promise,” he squeezed, just a little, just enough pressure to make her feel attached to reality. He kept talking, but she found it harder and harder to listen, and eventually settled down enough to fall asleep.

Time was still fuzzy, and the sky outside provided her no hint, but she assumed that it had to be at least a few hours later when she finally stirred. Neither of them had moved much, but now her arm was slung across his lap like a seatbelt in a loose embrace, and somebody had tucked a blanket around them. She focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing she could feel from his cheek resting on top of her head. Adjusting just enough to ease the crick in her neck without waking him up, she tried to settle back down, but found she wasn’t able to get comfortable there anymore.

“Riku, get up,” she shoved at his shoulder lightly, “come on, you’re going to feel terrible tomorrow if we stay here all night.”

He made a confused little sound in the back of his throat and blinked over at her, and he looked sweet enough to make her chest ache. That side of him was one she didn’t get to see often enough. She didn’t want to let go of it yet, but she also knew how mad at herself she’d be if she let them stay there all night and he woke up sore because of it.

“You’ll thank me in the morning, let’s go,” she said, pulling at his good wrist until he finally stood up.

“Please don’t tell me you were going to stay there all night because of me,” she asked him once they were standing at the foot of the staircase that lead to where all the bedrooms were.

“I could tell you didn’t get any sleep last night,” he said, pausing to yawn, “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He walked her to her room, hovering close in a sleepy shuffle like he had been since the day before. After wishing her a good night with a warm hand on her shoulder, he turned to head off towards his own room. Even just watching him casually walk away from her made ice cold drips of abandonment slip down her back.

“Can I – can I stay with you, actually?” she asked, reaching out for the hem of his jacket, desperation for contact and connection winning out against her desire to make everything seem like it was fine.

He nodded, smile small and a little sad. “The bed’s big enough, let’s go.”

When they got to Riku’s room, it was clear that they were both ready to fall back to sleep at a moment’s notice. Kairi slipped out of her dress and dropped it on the floor, leaving her in her shorts and tank top, and turned away to give him some privacy while he changed into something more comfortable. She told herself it was no different than any of the hundreds of sleepovers they had shared before.

Kairi glanced out the window, at the perpetual Twilight Town gloam hidden behind the tower’s iridescent shield, but the light in the room made it easy to see their reflections in the glass. In the mirrored view, she saw devastation cross Riku’s face as he reached out to touch her shoulder, only to flinch away at the last moment.

“What is it?” she asked, turning around. Riku knew better than to lie to her, but she saw him hesitate.

“… Have you taken a look at your back yet?” he said, mouth pulled into a tight, sad expression.

Kairi twisted, trying to get a look at what he saw. Unable to get a good angle, she turned her back to the window and looked over her shoulder to see it in the reflection. She gasped when she saw it, a jagged scar crossing from the top of one shoulder to the bottom of the opposite hip. Not a wound, a scar, already pale and healed over.

She had been told that only a few days had passed since their battle in the Keyblade Graveyard.

“Oh.” she said, voice shaking, not knowing what else to say.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, trailing his finger down the marred skin where it bisected her spine.

“No. It doesn’t feel like anything, actually.”

“Like numbness or like tingling? How’s your range of motion?” she wasn’t sure if he was gathering information or trying to keep her grounded. Knowing Riku, it was probably both.

“Neither. It feels like it’s not even there,” she stretched her arms up, swivelling her hips, “and range of motion is fine, I think.”

“It’s probably not nerve damage, then,” he hummed, curious.

She knew what that must mean. The numbness was all in her head, just like they thought her amnesia was. It was too much for her to deal with, so she had subconsciously walled it off. She was starting to worry that her usual coping mechanism wouldn’t be enough anymore, not for this.

“Well, I’m glad you haven’t asked me what happened, at least,” she said, trying to deflect away from it. She didn’t know what she would do if he did ask, to tell the truth.

He didn’t say anything to that. Kairi held her breath, waiting for him to say something, _anything, _to finally change the topic to a completely different one and move on.

She read between the lines. Riku knew something, saw something – something that she didn’t remember. She could infer what it must have been, could tie it to the heartbroken expression he had when he first saw her back. The feeling settled slick and oily in her chest and she mechanically boxed it up and shoved it into a quiet corner of her mind before it could get its claws in her. She did the same thing she had always done when she was scared: deflect, bury it, pretend it doesn’t exist. Avoidance didn’t hurt her. It had gotten her this far.

She looked up at him and shook her head to keep him from finally saying something, scared of breaking the very fragile hold she had on the situation. His eyes were sad and tired, and she didn’t want to know what he had seen.

They had left the door ajar, just enough light spilling in from the hallway to keep her out of the dark. At least, she assumed he did it for her sake. She wasn’t sure if he still had trouble sleeping in a completely dark room. He had grown so much while she wasn’t there to witness it.

The covers were cool against her skin when she burrowed under them. She stuck to the opposite edge of the bed from him, keeping a distance between them that painfully reminded her that this _wasn’t_ one of their usual sleepovers.

Riku was quick to fall back to sleep, clearly at least as exhausted as she felt, but something had her hesitating instead of following him.

He fidgeted in his sleep, expression shifting to discomfort and hands briefly clenching. Her fingertips ached to smooth out the bitter furrow between his brows, her own intrinsic light a yawning chasm inside her that could only be relieved by soothing someone else.

She longed to reach out to him, to trace the dull rings under his eyes and the soft bow of his tired pout, to see if there was a barely-there roughness along his jaw she had expected would come along with his recent growth spurt, to re-establish a connection she knew they used to have like planting a flag in the unclaimed earth of him.

But she didn’t dare cross the unspoken no man’s land between them, the space just big enough for one more person. Their hands rested inches apart in it, both dangerously close to the spot where Kairi knew Sora’s heart would settle if he were where he belonged, sprawled out between the two of them.

She shut her eyes, unable to watch him sleep any longer. It took far longer than her exhausted body needed, but she eventually slipped under and fell back to sleep.

The first thing she saw when she woke up the next morning were eyes like tide-worn chips of sea glass. 

He was watching her, studying her like he was trying to memorize the details. Kairi didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he didn’t look like he had just woken up at the same time as her.

“You could have gotten up, I probably would have slept right through it,” she rubbed at the corner of her eye and stifled a yawn.

“Just… didn’t want to get up yet,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation.

She found herself wishing that kissing him would be enough to wipe away the sad expression that had taken over his features, the kind of closed-mouth closed-eyes touches that made her heart twist in her chest every time she had thought of giving them to him and Sora. 

He fixed his eyes on hers and drew in a breath like he was about to say something, but after a long silence that verged on tense, it seemed clear he had changed his mind about saying anything. She didn’t push. 

They eventually made their way up to Yen Sid’s study late in the morning, after rounding up most of the others. Riku told her he had something to talk about, and it filled Kairi with a very quiet sense of dread.

“I think I know how to get to Sora,” he said once the others had all gathered around and started listening.

“You’re planning to dive,” Yen Sid completed for him, steepling his hands in front of him.

“If I do, I might be able to reach him, like in the exam.”

“There are significant risks involved with this plan, I’m sure you understand what you are suggesting.”

“Please, you know he would do it for any of us. Let me do it for him,” Riku argued. Kairi could see the tension held in his shoulders. “And I think… I think maybe he tried reaching out to me last night,” he continued after a moment, pain laced through his voice.

That could explain why he looked like he was having a bad dream, Kairi thought. Though, if Sora reaching out for him made it a _bad_ dream, that definitely pointed to his situation being less-than-optimal. He needed rescuing. And he was only out there needing rescuing because...

If she had been faster, or stronger, or just tried harder, she thought, then maybe he would be there with them. 

She didn’t notice that she had tuned out the conversation, momentarily lost tripping down the staircase of her own thoughts while the others kept talking.

“Sleep and death are tightly woven, as you know very well. It would make sense that you still feel that connection. This is likely our strongest chance, so you have my approval.” Yen Sid said with a sage nod, opening a drawer in his desk to rifle through the contents.

“Okay, so when do we leave?” Roxas asked, and Kairi suddenly felt foolish for thinking it had been Ven talking the day before instead of him. Of course Sora would make sure to bring everyone back.

“No ‘we,’ this is too risky, and I’m the only one with any relevant experience. I have to go alone,” Riku said, firm, leaving no room for argument.

_Alone?_

She fixated on the word, repeating over and over in her ears, static crackling like ants on her skin. He was going without her. She wasn’t coming with him.

The door echoed when it slammed behind her, the only thing that made her realize she had even left the room. She took the stairs two at a time, but even with that it seemed like the trip down took a fraction of the time it should have. Maybe the tower recognized how badly she needed to get out of there and compressed the liminal spaces between rooms just for her.

She threw the front doors open and stalked out onto the lawn. Above her, the clouds swirled, reflecting the clashing emotions inside her. Her heart pounded, heavy and painful in her chest.

Storming off was childish, hardly the kind of behaviour they all expected from her. She couldn’t even find it in herself to feel ashamed of it, too torn up to deal with anything beyond the immediate hurt and betrayal.

Behind her, someone else came out of the tower. She could tell who it was just from the weight of the steps, could _always_ tell when it was either of her boys.

“Look, I know you’re upset, I just—” Riku’s voice was winded, like the tower made the staircase longer for him than it had for her.

“You _know _I should be going with you,” she said, low and angry. She stood facing away from him, looking out at the kaleidoscope sky from the edge of the grass. 

“But you can’t—” 

“Why did you even hand me the stupid thing in the first place if I’m never going to be allowed to use it, Riku?” she flexed her hand like she would to pull her keyblade out, feeling the shivering sensation of magic against her palm, “I thought you of all people would support me wanting to fight — I thought you’d be on my side!” her voice got angrier the longer she went on, and she finally turned to face him, dragging her hands through her hair in frustration.

“We _are _on the same side, what are you talking about?” he said, bewildered.

“Don’t twist my words, you know what I mean. What good am I if all I can do is sit here and wait? I’m sick of life just happening to me. Everything I’ve ever done I’ve had no control over!” it was finally her chance to say everything she had been bottling up, anger and bitterness and helplessness settling warm and heavy over her.

“That isn’t true! And you’re a Princess of—”

“You know, nobody’s ever _explained _this princess garbage to me?” she cut him off, “What if I can help and we don’t know because nobody has ever given me a chance to _try?_”

“Kairi, stop,” he was pleading with her, taking measured steps forward like he didn’t want to spook her away. She matched him, heated strides bringing her towards the tower until they were only a foot apart.

“No. You can’t actually _stop _me from doing anything. You know that, right?” she put both hands on his shoulders and shoved at him, making him stumble backwards. “I’ll be right behind you whether you _want_ me there or not. I’m not going to be left behind again. You _promised _me, remember?”

She could shove him off the lawn entirely – he’d be fine. Axel and Sora had tested that thoroughly enough before. He would fall down for a few minutes and then tumble right out of the sky onto the front steps. She was mad enough that it would maybe give her a little satisfaction.

“It’s not like that!” Riku was matching her in volume just to be heard, but she was the only one actually yelling. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a few of the others huddled around the doorway, but no one dared to step in.

“You won’t even let me finish! Don’t you think I should be involved considering Sora is only out there needing to be saved because of me? I’m the one who got fucking _taken _and _used_ like some helpless little _princess _because that’s all anyone has ever let me _be!”_

“It wasn’t your fault, it was—”

“I don’t care about blame, I care about getting Sora back!” her voice broke on it, throat aching from shouting like she had swallowed sand. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, just to regain her composure, but a hand closed around her wrist, calloused palm and long fingers and her heart tripped over itself as phantom memories layered over the moment.

“_Let go of me!”_ she screamed, yanking her hand away from him like it burned. She wasn’t sure if she was actually loud enough for it to echo, or if she could only hear it echoing through her distorted senses. The colours on the edges of her vision bled into something akin to paint water. Her feet moved without her permission, taking a few clumsy steps backwards.

To Riku’s credit, he did drop his hold on her wrist before she even told him to. He stayed where he was, putting his hands up where she could see them both, body language passive but steady, worry creased between his pale eyebrows.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve realized,” he said, voice quiet and sad. From someone else, it may have just sounded like pity, but she had seen the way he reacted to things that seemed innocuous enough to her. It came from a place of understanding. 

“Can I come closer?” the way he looked at her when he asked it made her feel like a wounded animal, a rabbit-hearted girl too frozen to run away. A stray rational thought, somehow slipped in amongst the dread and panic and the warning bells that screamed danger, told Kairi that she didn’t need to run away from this. She nodded, the motion slow and uncoordinated.

Another blink like molasses and he was warm around her, pinning her arms to her sides in a tight embrace. It was grounding, drowning out the cotton-static numbness that buzzed between her ears. His heart raced against her own where they were pressed together. 

“That’s not why. I can’t — I can’t lose you, too. Not again. You just got back; we don’t even know _how_, and you’re still readjusting,” Riku said, lips pressed into her hair. It was quiet enough that she knew anyone still watching them probably couldn’t hear it, the words only for her. “_Please don’t make me watch you die again,_” he whispered.

The tension in her snapped like a bow suddenly gone slack, body no longer at the ready to be a weapon. It made her knees buckle, but he kept her upright. One moment she was breathing quick and shallow, not even making a sound, the next she was choking on sobs that felt like they were being ripped out from her. It was loud. It was ugly. She tried to bury them in his shirt, but that didn’t help much. Rather than continuing to hold her up, he let them both sink to the ground, tightening his arms around her. He gave her time to cry it out, even though it felt like it took her forever.

“When do you plan on leaving?” she eventually asked him, muffled into his shoulder where her tears had soaked through the fabric.

“Tomorrow,”

“Then give me tonight, please,” it felt selfish to request so much of the time he had before he left, but she wouldn’t be able to live with the regrets she would have if she didn’t clutch onto every last second. She spent too much time without him, without both of them, to squander any of it now. 

Kairi asked him to take her back to the island, back home, for the evening, and he agreed to without asking her what she wanted to do there. The low hum of the Gummi Ship droned in the background while they tried to make small talk through the drive over.

“You’re a better driver than Sora,” she noted, far fewer bumps in the ride than she had become accustomed to.

“He’s not that bad, from what I’ve seen,” Riku said, tilting his head to look over at her. She couldn’t help but notice how they all refused to talk about Sora in the past tense. At least they were all on the same page about getting him back.

“Hah, you weren’t there for the trip back from Hollow Bastion.”

The silence settled thick over them, tension just on this side of uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought that up,” she mumbled, turning away to look out at the shadow streaked spark-lit sky. It was out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying.

“No, it’s okay. Tell me about it,” he asked, directing the ship away from an asteroid field that Sora would have gleefully mowed down.

“He kept spinning the ship into barrel rolls. I think he was trying to show off or something,” she said, twirling one of her fingers around for emphasis.

“In his defense, he was fourteen. Can’t expect him to be a good driver,” he argued, and Kairi was inclined to agree. It wasn’t like any of them had had any driving experience beforehand.

She smiled, shaking her head, “Yeah, you’re right. And I was glad for the distraction from, you know, everything that had just happened.” It still hurt to think about, the broken clockwork castle that in one lifetime gave her everything, and in another almost took everything away.

“We can agree he’s good at that, at least.”

He parked the Gummi Ship on a stretch of sand between the dock and the shack. After popping the door open, he offered her a hand to help her down, but she didn’t take it, distracted by a gust of warm wind.

Kairi worried that the island heat would remind her of the graveyard, but they were just different enough to feel separate in her mind. Here, the air was humid, heavy with ocean salt and devoid of the prickly dust that the wind would kick into her face. The late afternoon sunlight lit the sand up gold, softer than the orange glow she associated with the battlefield. It still felt like home, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she was certain didn’t go unnoticed.

She glanced over at the paopu tree and the memory of sharing one with Sora tasted sour. Maybe she hadn’t done it right, and that’s what was keeping them apart. She didn’t want to risk trying it a second time; she brought Riku here for a different reason. He still hadn’t asked her why.

She reached out for his hand, but at the last moment chose to grasp him by the elbow and start pulling him towards the door that lead to the far side of the play island.

“Better shells on this side – the tide pools keep them from getting too battered,” she said by way of explanation before he even had a chance to say anything. Riku nodded in response, but looked away before she had a chance to read the expression on his face, already on the hunt.

They split up from there, checking the shallow pools and winding shoreline for intact shells. Most often, they were fractured or chipped by the time they washed up, so even just collecting five of them would be no small feat.

He held one up with a grin, and tossed it to her from a few feet away. At first glance, the Thalassa shell that he found seemed fine. She felt around it, running her thumb along the edge for any jagged pieces or sharp corners. It wasn’t all smooth, some grit to it that caught the calloused pad of her thumb. That just wouldn’t do. 

She was admittedly still feeling bitter, but more than that, she just needed it to be perfect, so she pulled her arm back and flung the shell into the waves. The small splash as it landed back in the ocean combined with his shocked expression did give her some satisfaction. 

“We can find better ones than that.” 

Her phone buzzed from her pocket a little later on, and she pulled it out to see who was brave enough to message her after witnessing her outburst. There was one unread message from Axel, and she couldn’t hold back a soft laugh when she read it.

_ do you need me to help you hide the body? jk but for real, kiddo, whatever you need. im here_

“You were right, about Axel. He’s changed. Kind of like he’s the big brother I never had,” she explained when Riku looked over to see what had made her laugh, head cocked in curiosity. 

“Wasn’t that supposed to be me?” she noticed that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he said it.

“_You? _Never,” she scoffed. Short of literally shouting it in front of everyone they know (which, she thought, she very nearly did just earlier that day, words caught in her throat like an overpacked suitcase), she didn’t know how she could make the way she felt about them both any more noticeable. She was the first to admit that she put up a lot of walls, but the ones that guarded that particular part of her heart were bullet proof glass. Nobody could get in, nothing could ever change it, but she was sure everyone looked right through her and could see it plain as day. 

It was enough to be their best friend. It had to be. 

After enough shells passed her inspection, they made their way back to the home-facing side of the island. It had been ages since she had stashed it there, so Kairi was grateful to see that her drawstring bag of craft supplies was still where she left it in the shack by the waterfall, next to a pair of wooden swords that she refused to look at. She lifted the flap to check the contents, mentally checking supplies off her list. Hand drill, check; leather cord, check; scissors, check; crayons, che—... Uncheck. Oh well, she thought, it wasn’t like that was absolutely necessary.

She met him back outside the shack and lead him to the dock, tugging her boots and socks off and sitting on the edge, feet dangling in the water. He did the same and settled down next to her, carefully piling the shells between them. A calm quiet descended over them again.

“Hey, Riku?” she said to get his attention, not looking up from where she was carefully drilling holes into the first of the shells with a small hand tool. He hummed to show that he was listening, but waited for her to speak.

“You know, it’s crazy. Before this all started, I sat right here with Sora and I suggested the two of us take the raft and run,” her voice shook a little, but she just brushed away the tears that fell with the back of her hand and kept working, “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what I could do about it, and I was scared. I’m sorry I wasn’t –” _a very good friend_, was how she planned to end the sentence, but he cut her off with a shake of his head and a nudge of his foot against her own.

“... What did he say?” he asked. Kairi couldn’t find it in herself to be all that surprised that he was more concerned with what Sora said than her confession that she nearly abandoned him – the very same way she was so scared of being abandoned herself. It was okay if Riku didn’t want the apology, she told herself, it was good enough just to get it off her chest.

“You really think Sora would ever want to be anywhere you aren’t?” she looked over at him with a watery smile and took in his surprised expression, his pink cheeks. She saw the way that they looked at each other, even if the two of them had been a little slow on the uptake. She finished the first shell and set it between them.

They both reached for the next shell at the same time, fingertips brushing. She had never felt butterflies when it came to her boys, not like the kind Selphie talked about, but the touch fizzled like late summer bonfires. Riku pulled his hand and his gaze away, letting her carry on without saying anything. His cheeks were still pink.

She had missed working with her hands. The repetitive, steady twist of her wrist was calming and therapeutic, and there was no small amount of satisfaction in seeing the end product slowly come together. It was a while later, after four of the shells were ready and Kairi was working on the last one when Riku finally spoke up again, continuing what they had been talking about before.

“I let him leave me behind. To go find you,” he pulled one knee up to rest his cheek on it, hands wrapped around his shin. He didn’t look at her when he said it, still facing the water but glassy-eyed, like he was stuck watching the memory of it.

“What do you mean?” she asked. That didn’t sound like him, didn’t sound like either of them.

“His mind was made up. I didn’t want to fight him on it.”

“Like I fought you?” she smirked, and bumped his shoulder to try and break up some of the grief-laced tension that had settled over them.

“Exactly. I was done fighting. I knew I couldn’t stop him, and I knew somebody needed to be able to bring him back and, well, that’s always been you, hasn’t it? Couldn’t be you this time, obviously, so I... I didn’t have much of a choice.” he said, with such heartbroken finality that the weight of it nearly made her slip and ruin the shell in her hands.

“Riku...” she didn’t know what to say to that. _He loves Sora so much,_ she thought, not for the first time, or even for the hundredth time. When she thought it this time, though, and tried to fit herself in-between them, she didn’t fit. She wasn’t even from the same puzzle as them, not anymore. The pieces just wouldn’t line up. 

“He was in such a rush. We were going to go and regroup at the tower, start figuring out how to get you back. He couldn’t even wait that long,” he shook his head with a bitter laugh, “I didn’t get a chance to... not say goodbye, of course, but I didn’t get a chance to say much of _anything_. Kicking myself for not at least getting a hug,” he splashed at the water like a child, bare foot making the surface ripple.

Kairi hummed in sympathy, “His hugs _are_ the best. You’ll get one soon, though.” She was sure of it. If she weren’t, she would crumble under the stupid tragedy of it all.

She gathered all five of the Thalassa shells in her lap and measured some lengths of leather cord. Carefully, with hands that she refused to allow to shake, she threaded them together into a star, tucking the knots inside the shells to hide them. Turning the charm over in her hands, she gave it a thorough inspection. It wasn’t as stable as the one she gave Sora, nothing in the middle to secure it or to give it any identifying features. Too fragile for it to withstand what she needed it to. There may not have been any crayons or spare trinkets in her craft bag, but she had just the thing to improvise with. She busied her hands with wrapping some more cord around the wayfinder for stability and forced herself to relax her tense shoulders until they drooped to a slightly more natural position. 

“Can you take my necklace off for me?” she asked, keeping her eyes trained on charm in her hands. 

“Kairi, what are—”

“Please, Riku,” she didn’t say it like a question, but her voice was too quiet and watery for it to be a command. His hands were as gentle as she had expected them to be on the back of her neck, brushing the knobs of her spine and avoiding the scar crossing through her shoulder blades. She ached for more of his touch, but knew not to push for it. He unclasped her necklace, and then unthreaded the pendant when she asked him to before softly dropping it in her waiting hand. She rolled the stone between her thumb and finger, light catching iridescent on the surface.

“I had a chance to talk to Aqua a little more yesterday,” she explained, “I asked her to tell me about the time she and I first met. She said that she put a spell on this, so that it would make sure my light would lead me to the light of another. To keep me safe. It’s what brought me here in the first place.” 

It was her blessing, in a way. She had seen how they acted around each other, had accepted that she couldn’t have them, that they wanted each other, that even though they loved her it wasn’t like _that. _She knew that Sora saving her was out of obligation and friendship, knew that he would have done it for any of them. But she was allowed to want, she was allowed to gather the scraps of these moments close to her chest for when she was alone. 

She finished wrapping the pendant around the centre of the wayfinder and tested the knots. Then she pressed it into his hands and kept her eyes down on it before continuing. 

“I know you don’t really need the luck, and I know you aren’t superstitious —” she looked up at him, embarrassed by the way she had to blink through tears that she didn’t want to deal with anymore. “But just to make me feel better, okay? Maybe it will help you two find each other.”

His fingers gently closed around the charm before he wrapped his arms around her. “I know it’s going to. Thank you,” the embrace was warm, and she clung back with both arms tight around his waist.

“I bet he’s probably kicking himself right now for not getting a hug from you, too,” she said against his neck, voice thick. She didn’t need to tell him how good his hugs were, sure he was able to pick up on it.

“I do actually need this back, though, I’m a little attached to it. I’ll make a better charm to put on it for you later. So that means you have to come home, promise?” she continued when they pulled apart, trying and failing to keep it lighthearted.

He was almost good at not letting a conflicted expression cross his face, and it was only a lifetime by his side that let Kairi know how much was said with a barely-there clench of his jaw, like he was grinding his teeth on a promise he might not be able to keep.

“We should go back; you look exhausted,” was what he said instead of anything he might regret down the road. He knew by now not to promise her things anymore, she thought.

Everyone had the good sense to keep their distance when they touched back down outside the tower. Either that, or they were all asleep. Kairi wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but she knew it was late.

Once up the stairs, Riku paused outside his bedroom door instead of continuing to walk her to her own room. He turned around, silent question in the tilt of his head. She nodded, following him inside. She still felt a barely-there sting of rejection from their earlier conversations, but him inviting her in had to mean something, right?

Getting undressed and into bed felt different this time, but not necessarily a better-different. Just a sad-different; less tense than the night before but very conscious of the fact that they wouldn’t be doing the same thing tomorrow.

He turned onto his side to face her, opening his arms. “Come here,” he mumbled, not reaching out for her but giving her time to come to him.

She fit perfectly against him, nose tucked into the hollow of his collarbone where she could just breathe him in and feel absolutely surrounded by that steady safety, clinging tight to the back of his shirt.

“I know you feel like you’re useless, but you’re not. Nobody else can do what you do. You brought him back, none of us would be here if you hadn’t. It’s okay that we don’t know why or how yet,” he said, quiet but convincing, warm breath tickling her ear.

It made her cry again, silent and shivering in his arms, but he didn’t draw attention to it, and she was thankful for it because she was absolutely sick of it. She was always a crybaby, her and Sora both, but she knew this kind of vulnerability was safe around him.

Riku had always been good at letting her just _be_.

She felt him slowly trace the scar on her back just once before squeezing her tighter, clearly upset. Sensation in the taught, healed-over skin was still fuzzy, but she was pretty sure his hand was shaking as he did it. She wondered how many of them had to watch her die, and squeezed back in a way she hoped was comforting.

From her comfortable position cuddled against his chest she couldn’t be certain, but she thought that maybe he was crying a little bit, too.

As she was drifting off, she thought she felt him press a gentle kiss into her hair. _Wishful thinking_, she told herself, letting his steady heartbeat lull her to sleep. 

The same steady heartbeat brought her back to waking what felt like such a short time later, but she knew, regretfully, that it was morning. Riku wasn’t awake yet, his breaths steady and even and his arms lax around her. She savoured every second of it, selfishly hoping he would stay asleep just a little while longer, keeping herself as still as she could to avoid disturbing him.

If she were a better person, maybe she would sneak out of the room before he woke up and give him some space.

He stirred before she could decide whether or not to sneak out, rolling onto his back with a groan.

“Morning already?” he asked, covering his eyes with one of his arms.

She nodded, and then realized he wouldn’t be able to see it, “Yeah. It’s morning.”

Both their voices were quiet, but it was still enough to burst the protective bubble that had surrounded them. They didn’t say anything else as they separated to get ready. She gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before she left the bed, getting as many casual touches in as she could. Lingering in the doorway was probably a bad idea, probably revealed too much, but she wanted to stay close as long as she could. The door closed behind her with a heavy click, and she headed back to her own room. She could find something to distract her for the rest of the morning, until it was time for him to go.

It came up on her quicker than she would have liked. Kairi waited, awkwardly standing behind everyone on the grass and absent-mindedly picking at a ragged hangnail while everyone said anything that they wanted to say to him. They knew to let her go last.

She approached him quietly, arms crossed defensively around her chest. She had never been good at saying goodbye.

His reassuring smile usually made her feel better, but this time she worried that he was just putting on a brave face for her.

“I’ll be okay,” Riku said, pulling the charm Kairi had made out of his pocket, “I’ve got this, remember?”

“Wait, actually,” he trailed off and stuck his other hand out. Braveheart materialized in a flash of sparks, and he fumbled to switch out the basic keychain for the new wayfinder. 

Kairi had seen the way Sora’s keyblade changed when he used her lucky charm as a keychain; this looked a little similar to that. She recognized the opalescent gleam to the metal, the feathered wings around the hand guard, the hollow groove split down the blade, though it still looked more like Riku’s keyblade than anything. 

Something about it felt _right. _

She threw herself into his arms, barely registering the metallic hum of the keyblade dematerializing as he let go of it to hold her close. 

They were clasped tight enough to one another that their cheeks pressed together when she rocked up on her toes, arms wound around his neck. She willed herself not to cry. 

His hands softly pulled her back just enough to reposition them so that he could press his forehead against hers, close enough that they shared the same breath.

Very quietly, in the intimate space only a forehead touch between almost-lovers could bring, he whispered to her in a voice like a secret, “When Sora and I got separated, at the door, the last thing I told him was to take care of you,”

Kairi’s mouth drew into a frown at the words, but he continued on before she had a chance to protest.

“I was wrong, you don’t need taking care of. You never have.”

That made the tears spill, and she moved to let go of where her hands were clenched in the back of his jacket to hastily dry her eyes, but he beat her to it. His thumb was calloused but gentle where it brushed the stray tears from her cheeks. 

“I’m still not happy about this. If you take too long, I’ll have to come after you,” she told him, fussing over the wrinkles she left on his clothes to drag to moment out.

“I know,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

There was so much more she wanted to say to him. 

“Bring him home,” was all she could choke out, anything more and she felt it would be burdening him with her own feelings. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes to hug him again, and before she could talk herself out of it, briefly pressed her lips against his cheek.

“You know, if you ask me to come along again, I probably won’t be able to say no to you,” he said, and Kairi knew that he was telling her the truth because she had so many years of proof that he couldn’t deny her anything. His hand was warm on her lower back where he kept her steady. 

She saw it for was it was: he was giving her a chance. He trusted her, enough to go against his own judgement if she thought it was the right thing to do. So, she drew back, paused, and thought about it. There was still so much healing she had to do. Besides, having one of them on this side, one who had already dragged them back from the edge before, was undeniably an asset. She was serious about going after him if he took too long, but there was so much she could do to help from here, too. It wasn’t the same as when she had been alone on the islands.

It didn’t feel like being left behind this time.

Kairi shook her head and felt the corners of her lips quirk up in a small smile. She touched a hand to her chest, fingers light against her bared sternum where she kept expecting the familiar weight of her necklace, and felt real for the first time in days.

“Just consider this your head start, then.” 

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title to this fic: “hrrrgh i’m trying to process my grief but i’m dummy sad and the clap of my ptsd keeps alerting one of my future-boyfriends.”


End file.
